


Found

by azazelsruins



Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Romance, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Mild Gore, Pining, Romance, Size Difference, Slow Burn, Violence, evan is a cutie
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-30
Updated: 2018-11-30
Packaged: 2019-09-02 17:03:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16791085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/azazelsruins/pseuds/azazelsruins
Summary: Fate [feɪt]1. The supposed force, principle, or power that predetermines events.2. The inevitable events predestined by this force.3. A final result or consequence; an outcome





	Found

Meg felt a searing pain rise in her leg as the heavy metal trap closed around her ankle, the adrenaline of the chase numbed the initial brunt of pain, but it was impossible to stay silent while the sharp teeth dug tightly into her pale skin, mottling her exposed flesh in crimson blood. She let out an agonisingly helpless cry as her fingers reached down to prise the rusted steel from her trapped limb. Her hands shook considerably making her attempts to escape the jaws near futile, but her reaction wasn’t through fear- but through the abundance of survivalist energy coursing through her veins, her mind focusing on the primal urge of flight. Not only to save herself, but the others in the fog who were reliant on her contribution to their escape- something she couldn’t do while trapped. 

She continued to grasp aimlessly, her task becoming increasingly difficult as her blood smeared over her fingers, causing them to slip whenever she got a firm hold of the trap. Meg grunted both in pain and frustration; but her attempts were soon stopped by the sound of a familiar heartbeat from behind. Her head whipped around to see the killer looming above her, completely still bar the heavy rise and fall of his chest and the steady ominous drip of blood onto the dirt beside her. Her senses seemed innately sharpen under the now unavoidable pressure as she heaved again, this time purposefully and strong. She let out a loud gasp of exertion as the trap finally gave under the pressure and sprung open, releasing her from its clutches. 

She got to her feet, stumbling forward a few strides before finding her rhythm. She knew she was moving slower with her ankle, but knew her athleticism gave her a small advantage, even while injured, as she tried to distance herself from the killer. Meg turned her head she ran, trying to gauge her distance- however the Trapper was still standing, watching her limp to the edge of the cornfield. He hadn’t given in to the chase. She wasn’t sure if it was the blood loss that had deliriously fuelled her confidence or the ease of her escape, but she stopped in her tracks. She turned with a supressed wince to face him, completely perplexed at the situation- he had stopped to let her escape from his trap and now was motionless during the hunt. 

“Something wrong?” Meg called out jeeringly. She eyed him carefully for any signs of movement, but he stood firmly. She watched as his head tilted fractionally as she spoke, evidently considering her words- his grasp was still tight around his weapon, maintaining his aura of both menace and power. 

She tried again to be antagonistic, given that every moment he remained static benefitted her and the other survivors. “Come on, I know I always outrun you, but you could at least try.” She mocked, a small smirk appeared on her features before quickly disappearing as the sound of the exit gates opening rung through the air, instantly stalling her further attempts at wit. The pair both looked in the direction of the gate simultaneously and the Trapper finally moved, closing the gap between them in only a few long strides. She froze, like a rabbit in headlights, as he leaned down and lifted her with one arm onto his shoulder- his large hand was tight around her thigh, not painfully so, but enough to keep her from struggling. 

Meg accepted her fate, knowing that her sacrifice had allowed her friends to escape- soon she would be back at the campfire and her wounds would be healed. The warmth of the flames would remind her of home- somewhere far away from the darkness and cruelty of the Entity, her eyes closed as she closed for a moment, savouring the thought. However, her imaginings were put to an abrupt stop as she was ripped from her thoughts with a thud. She was deposited on the grass, landing uncomfortably on her knees. She quickly shook her head and looked around, mildly dazed from the abruptness of the fall. The killer had dropped her at the border of the exit. She tried to justify it for a short second, knowing that there must be some ulterior motive- it had to be some sort of cruel punishment in return for the brashness she had shown to him.

“Leave.” The deep voice spoke demandingly, his tone was gravely and rough she assumed from lack of use. The redhead looked up, toying with the idea of leaving but she knew her companions had escaped, so was far more intrigued by the man in the mask. She had never heard a killer talk. She got up to her feet, now standing as close to him as she ever had and only now truly realising the sheer size of him, both intimidatingly broad as he was tall- easily standing several heads above her own. She noticed detail that she had previously overlooked: how his skin was almost stained with dirt and soot, how the metal hooks painfully protruded from his shoulders and how the smallest glimpse of his cold eyes could be seen behind the grinning mask. Seeing him in full detail only made him more threatening, rather than less so. 

Meg quirked her head at him. “Why are you doing this? And, why to me?” She pressed, intentionally testing him further. She couldn’t leave without knowing. She supposed being curious and bold was typical of her, most others would have grasped the opportunity to escape but her stubbornness willed her to know more. 

A moments silence passed. “I know you’ve avoided me in every trial…” She continued. Meg, on reflection, had seen signs of his odd behaviour prior. Nothing had been as obvious as it was now, but she had noted times where he had seen her and continued walking. If he did have to chase her; it was always away from any area that was heavily trapped, and he would always subsequently lose her. She considered her speed and stamina to be the reason for her numerous escapes but now that she had thought about it, there had been plenty of oddness from the killer before- she had just never truly noticed.

The accusation seemed to make the man uncomfortable, his head dipping slightly to break his previous stern stare. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed him fidgeting with his weapon. Not intimidatingly though. She wasn’t sure if she was going completely insane but if this were any other person, she would go as far to say they were anxious. But that was impossible, she thought, the killers in this realm didn’t show emotion that wasn’t rage or menace- in her experience at least. 

She looked back at up at him, shifting her footing to bare her weight on her other foot allowing her still bloodied ankle to rest. He seemed to notice her small groan under her breath when she moved, his eyes trailing down to look at her injury. Another pregnant pause passed. “You’re injured, you need to leave to heal.” The Trapper restated, ignoring her jibes- she assumed there was a reason he wasn’t elaborating on his behaviour, as she had expected. Meg still stood firmly and determinedly crossed his arms across her dirtied sport clothing, wordlessly refusing. He was right, of course, her ankle was still slowly releasing blood- the liquid trickling down to her feet and staining her trainers red as it went.  
Before she could quite fathom what was going on, she was quickly manhandled again by the killer- this time dropping her to her feet inches from the borderline of the exit. She didn’t think it would be possible to find someone as stubborn as she was. The redhead sighed, knowing there was no way she would win their stalemate, but she promised herself, next time, she would find him first and talk to him again- before this standoff could arise again. 

She gave exasperated sigh, giving the man a pointed look- her frustration evident in her furrowed eyebrows and tight lips. She turned, taking her final step forward- everything went black. 

Meg took a breath before reopening her eyes slowly, expecting to see the familiar sight of the glowing campfire and friendly faces. But, reality was much different. She blinked a few times in confusion. She was laying on a thin mattress on the floor of a small wooden building. The room was dimly lit, but from what she could see, it was dirty, and the timber walls were almost rotten. It had an unpleasant fragrance of copper and blood reminding instantly of the buildings in the trials full of rusted hooks and splatters of entrails. She slowly propped herself upright with her elbow, looking around the room for any sign of where she was. The wooden hut was barren, apart from a large work bench in the far corner- it was untidy, littered in pieces of metal and tools. She frowned as her eyes laid on the pile up of scraps, noticing a familiar looking trap on top of the array of metallic sheets and iron bars. 

Maybe she was back in a trial, she thought- it all seemed reminiscent of the scenes that frequented them. To check, she looked down at her lower leg assuming to see perhaps only a faint scratch from where the trap had closed but to her shock, it was wrapped in bandages and a faint hint of red could be seen through the top layer, having seeped through from the wound underneath. To her dismay, she had to conclude that it was impossible for this to be a trial- the injuries sustained during always healed before the next.  
She frowned. If she had never returned to the campfire, she must still be in the MacMillan Estate where the previous trial had taken place. The last thing she remembered was the Trapper letting her escape through the gate- but she couldn’t have escaped at all if she was still here. Her forehead began to ache, through a combination of confusion and the stifling smell that was inescapable within shack. She shakily pushed herself from the mattress, her mildly rested limbs protesting at the sudden movement from their original comfort of the somewhat soft material. 

Meg spotted a medical kit on the edge of the table, opened and items in disarray. This is what she’d been aided by, but she had no recollection of bandaging herself. She fumbled around in the box for a fresh gauze figuring she could replace now soiled bandage before leaving to find an escape back to the campfire. While rummaging for the right supplies, she failed to hear the creek of the wooden flooring behind her. She didn’t realise she was no longer alone until the heavy masked breathing was right behind her, a thick set body enclosing her between itself and the table. 

She squirmed as she managed to find enough space to turn her body to face the intruder. Although the suddenness of the arrival left her startled he wasn’t shocked to be reacquainted with the Trapper, it all made sense- yet still felt completely nonsensical at the same time. His expression was unreadable behind the mask, but she knew if he wanted to have harm her he would have done so in the trial. 

“How…? I mean, what happened?” Meg started for the first time feeling lost for words; although she wasn’t entirely sure if it was through the astonishment of her ordeal or the apparent lack of personal space boundaries the man seemed to have. 

He seemed to consider this for a moment before finally finding his voice, unknowing of her discomfort by his proximity. “When you attempted to leave a force stopped you. You passed out. So, I took you here, on the Estate.” The Trapper responded concisely. 

She frowned, unsure what to make of the explanation. She knew it was bizarre and it brought a hundred questions springing to her mind but right now, it was the last thing she wanted to solve. She looked down the bandage in her hands and back up to the towering man finally resonating that he must have tried to help her, the thought spread some kind of foreign warmth over her, but it was fleeting, disappearing as soon as it arose. 

The Trapper followed her eyes, taking his own assumption of the situation, as he took the roll from her hand and dropped to a crouching stance in front of her. He reached out with large hands to begin to remove the bloodied bandage carefully, his fingers barely touched her skin- scared that any light brush would harm her or cause her to recoil away. He wasn’t an expert in aid, but he tried his best to copy what he had seen other survivors do. He resented the feeling of pressure that was building inside him- part of him was self-conscious and wanted nothing more than to impress her yet the other part wrestled with this idea, knowing that she would only feel revolted by someone like him.  
Meg let out a shaky breath. The movement, however gentle, was mildly painful given the tenderness of her wounds. She looked dumbfounded at the esteemed killer, on his knees, tending to a survivors’ wounds. It was almost even more bizarre than her situation. She didn’t move away. His touch was cautious yet controlled and it inadvertently washed her with a feeling of safety and security, something she hadn’t truly felt in a long time. Once satisfied with his effort, the Trapper got back to his feet- looking down at her intently for a reaction to his work. 

“Thank you.” She exhaled sincerely, a hint of a smile gracing her features as she looked back up at him. She wasn’t sure if she was going entirely insane, but she could have sworn she saw small, almost reassuring smile returned between the sharpened teeth of the mask. All thoughts of running back to the exit diminished at the sight, knowing she couldn’t leave without knowing more about the man in the mask.

**Author's Note:**

> There are definitely not enough Evan/Meg works, so I was obliged to contribute to the cause!


End file.
